Close Enough: Epilog for Ties My Father Sold Me
by Voyager Tip
Summary: What really happened after Milt offered to take Mark to a ballgame? Here's my take on it!


"I'll take ya to a ballgame," Hardcastle said as he put his hand on Mark's shoulder and they started out of the lounge.

They continued to walk in silence. McCormick leading the way out the door they had recently entered. He walked to the curb and stopped.

The judge had let go of his shoulder by then, and was raising his hand for a taxi.

"I wanna walk," Mark told him.

"It's 15 blocks."

"You can take a cab and I'll see you back at the hotel."

There was a short silence.

"Nah, I'll walk too."

So they had started down the sidewalk.

Normally, it was easier to talk while they were walking. Some of their most serious talks had been while they walked along the beach at Gull's Way. This time though, neither could think of anything to say.

As they neared the hotel, McCormick stopped and motioned to a bench in front of a little park across the street.

"I'm just gonna sit for awhile, I don't feel like goin in just yet," he said quietly as he made his way to the bench and sat down.

Hardcastle watched him, then followed. It was dark, a nearby street light wasn't working, but the judge could see McCormick's silhouette, slouched back on the bench.

"You okay?" the judge finally asked. He knew the answer, McCormick was definitely not okay, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Sure."

The judge paused for a moment, then walked around to the other end of the bench and sat down.

Twenty minutes passed.

"How long are you gonna sit there judge?" Mark finally asked. He'd been aware that Hardcastle had sat down, but had been wrapped up in his thoughts and had suddenly realized that more than a few minutes had gone by.

Hardcastle shrugged, "not sure".

"I'm alright," he said quietly. "No worse off than before anyway."

Hardcastle was silently trying to contain his anger at Sonny. It amazed him that anyone who had a son, especially one like Mark, would want to throw away the relationship as though it had no meaning, no importance. The kid was something special, anyone should be proud to claim him as a son.

He glanced sideways at the kid when he heard Mark sigh. He wished he could help, but, there was just no damn thing he could think of to do. He wasn't one to express his feelings. He couldn't tell the kid that he thought of him as a son. He was ashamed that he had actually wanted Sonny to fail him. If he was honest with himself, he had been jealous, and afraid of losing the best friend and partner anyone could ever want. So he sat on the other end of the bench and said nothing.

Twenty more minutes passed.

"Why are you here judge?" Mark asked suddenly.

There was a long pause as Hardcastle tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he answered the truth. "Because I wanna be."

"You'd be more comfortable inside."

Silence.

"You don't have to stay, ya know...I really am alright."

"I know."

"So why don't you go in?"

Hardcastle considered his answer. "You know in those old westerns where they circle the wagons to protect each other when the Indians attack?"

Mark smiled, "there aren't any Indians attacking judge, not even close."

Hardcastle paused, then answered quietly, "close enough kiddo, close enough."

Mark's eyes burned as he turned to look at his friend, sitting on the cold, hard bench, and their eyes met briefly. He waited for the lump in his throat to go down a bit before he spoke. "What'd'ya say we go in and see if we can find one of those old movies to watch," he asked as he stood up.

Hardcastle smiled broadly, "now you're cookin!"

As they started across the narrow street, Mark spoke again.

"I know you made Sonny rob that safe judge."

Milt bit his lower lip, unsure how to answer.

"You let me believe a lie," Mark continued quietly.

Milt still remained quiet. What could he say? It was true.

When they reached to other side of the street, Mark turned to face him, "why would you do that?"

Milt looked into the kids eyes and told the truth, "I liked seeing you happy, is that so bad?"

"You lied to me!" Mark raised his voice.

"I'm sorry."

Mark looked away from his friend. He couldn't be angry. In fact, he felt as if the old wounds were starting to heal. Hardcastle had cared about him so much that he flew across the country without knowing why, stuck with him though the past few days, and sat on a cold, hard bench for way too long, just because he cared. Mark had never been really sure if he mattered to anyone since his mother died. But now he realized that he mattered to the judge, enough to make him break his own personal code of honesty, and that was literally unheard of.

"Just don't do it again," he whispered, "I need you the way you are judge. Don't ever change."

Hardcastle exhaled in relief, glad to be off the hook.

"I won't."

As they entered the hotel, Mark was smiling. The crushing weight of being abandoned by his father seemed to lift, and at least for this evening he could look forward to some peace and quiet.

It was amazing how comforting those circling wagons could be, even without Indians attacking. But maybe the judge was right, it wasn't an Indian attack, but it was close enough.

The End


End file.
